


Robins Don't Fly

by nohappinessfanfics



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Super Sons (Comics), Superman (Comics)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Friends to Lovers, Love Triangles, M/M, Second Chances, Slow Burn, questioning characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:41:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26809789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nohappinessfanfics/pseuds/nohappinessfanfics
Summary: Damian has spent the past two years trying to get over Jon. No amount of distancing himself can ease the yearning in his heart. When Colin unexpectedly comes back into his life, Damian knows this could be his chance to move on.
Relationships: Damian Wayne/Colin Wilkes, Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne, damicolin, jondami - Relationship
Comments: 25
Kudos: 96





	1. Chapter 1

Ship: Jondami (Jon Kent/Damian Wayne [endgame] ), Damicolin (Colin Wilkes/Damian Wayne)  
Series: DC Comics  
Rating: M/R/NC-17/NSFW  
Warning: AU/Canon divergence where Damian is on and off as Robin before eventually quitting. He doesn’t die. Colin exists in this universe. Aged up characters. For the sake of continuity, Jon never joins Jor-El, so he’s still three years younger than Damian. Smut. Consensual underage ship.

Robins Don’t Fly

1

It had snowed the night before; strange weather for this time of year. Damian had watched the soft white flakes drift down lazily from his kitchen window until he’d lulled into sleep on the couch where he slept most of the times now. It must have stopped sometime during the night, because the morning had sidewalks and streets blanketed in the soft white snow. Damian wrapped his pine green, plaid scarf around his neck before heading out. His breath misted in front of him the moment he stepped out of the building. The soft snow underneath his feet crunched under his weight. The sky was simultaneously a soft cloudless gray or a single, giant soft gray cloud.

People were just starting their day, their motions sluggish in the cold and early hours. It wasn’t even that early. Almost 7am. People should have been up and about their business earlier, but the weather was making them languid. After a couple of minutes, he passed a few people, but they each ignored the other. Even though he lived in the nicer parts of Gotham (was there even such a thing?), Damian remained vigilant. The air was cleaner and crispier here, but he still remembered from his Robin days the way the cold weather could make the stench much more putrid. Wet, cold trash and body odor that had crawled up his nostrils now crawled in the memories of his mind.

When he got to the coffee shop, there were already people seated inside and a few more already in line. Damian was met with the instant change in temperature as the heat from inside the café surrounded him. The heater was running, but even if it wasn’t the inside would still warm from the coffee and tea brewing and pastries being baked.

He looked around as he waited, more out of habit than anything else. The few people already seated had their drinks and laptops out. One person was highlighting over papers spread over his table. Some of their coats and scarves and hats were either draped behind their chairs or laid across their tables. He was grabbing his coffee and leaving, so he hadn’t even bothered to loosen his scarf, but the radical change from cold to hot had made his skin slightly prickly. It didn’t last as he cycled through some old meditation techniques. There was soft chatter from the people in front of him, but he paid no attention to it.

Damian enjoyed the scents of coffee and freshly baked pastries. The ambiance as a whole was soothing, and he was always aware of the juxtaposition in comparison to his past life. His adjacent life. He walked up when it was his turn and ordered what he always did: double shot vanilla soy latte.  


He took his hand out of his coat pockets to pay then stepped to the side for the other patrons. While he waited, he mused over the anonymity he had here. The al Ghul name that had no place, but even Wayne didn’t hold as much weight. People recognized him and knew who he was, but they were known names too. Damian occasionally got some looks, but they were easy to ignore, or rather, spot, assess, then dismiss. He was surrounded by stock brokers and wall street tycoons and hot shot lawyers and doctors. All somebodies.

“Mr. Wayne.”

The barista called his order, and he stepped up to take it.

“Thank you.”

The drink was hot in his hand, but he was still schooled enough in his training it didn’t bother him, and he had no need to shift the cup. He left the café and was met with the biting cold again. It would be another fifteen, twenty with the snow, walk to Wayne Enterprise. By then the coffee wouldn’t be hot at all, but Damian waited a couple minutes to take a sip. As he’d gotten older, he’d grown to appreciate the taste of coffee, although not as much as his adoptive brother, Tim. It wasn’t _that_ good.

The sweet, warm fragrance steamed into his nose first, and then he was met with the sweet taste of coffee. He would have bought his brother one, but he was never sure when Tim was going to be in the office, but more recently, Wayne Enterprise had expanded their cafeteria to include a separate café. The brew there wasn’t bad either, but Damian still preferred to shop local and indie. Even if Wayne Enterprise, on Damian’s suggestion and urging, had become more eco-friendly and conscious of reducing its eco footprint, Damian still felt the need to be aware of where he spent his money and who he supported. Smaller, warmer, places that had intimate relationships with patrons and products seemed the way to go. Or he was just being pretentious. Damian wondered sometimes about what the articles said about him and if they were true. He remembered that particular headline describing him as such but not what the article had been about. It didn’t matter, he figured it was still due to his training with the League of Assassins. Helping the world recover didn’t have to be destructive and bloody, it could be healing too.

The coffee was soothing, but the sensation on his lips after left a soft tingling reminiscing of Jon’s kisses. Damian let out a labored sigh. Jon had drifted more and more into his thoughts these past few days. Damian surmised that it was because it’d been his twenty-third birthday last week, and he hadn’t gotten a text, but also because they were coming up on two years of breaking up.

Damian had expected to spend his birthday alone, but Alfred hand shown up at his apartment with food and a small cake. Damian had been going over merchants and products the company could switch over that would be both cost effective and friendlier to the environment when the knock at the door had come. He hadn’t expected to see Alfred, and when he told him he hadn’t needed come see him, he’d gotten a typical Alfred response: “Nonsense. If you were too busy to come to me, I’d come to you.”  


Dick had managed to arrive a few hours later to celebrate with him, having had some Nightwing business to attend to earlier, but everyone else had at least sent text messages, too busy to come; everyone, that is, but Jon. Even Maya had sent him a text message wishing him a happy birthday but also chiding him for not hanging out, even though they both knew it was because he might get pulled back into the life. His father had come the next morning to go have a late birthday breakfast with him, and although Damian had been as happy as Damian could be to see his father and spend time with him, he was also thinking about Jon.

The breakfast had consisted of him noticing how his father’s hairs were graying slightly faster each year, and imagining Jon staring at his phone, debating whether to call or text him or not.

They had said they would still be friends, but even then, Damian had wondered how true either of them believed it.

After first arriving with Bruce and unlearning the most brutal aspects of his League training, he’d hire a therapist for Damian (which made him wonder if he’d gotten one for anyone else especially after considering Jason had come back from the fucking dead—how much did Harley’s assessment count?). Damian had resisted it at first, of course, tooth and nail. The person was under a non-disclosure contract and had been vetted by Bruce himself. It had helped a lot, too much, actually. So much so that the most coveted Robin title was something he was okay giving up.

When he had told the family he wanted to quit, it had been met with some but little resistance. After all, Damian’s appearance had caused a rift with Tim, who had been Robin at the Tim, and if he wanted it, he could have it back. Leaving the life, of course, was difficult. Damian had found himself taking up the cowl a few times when the family had needed it which eventually lead to him meeting Jon. Bruce had thought it was a good idea they meet—and though Damian would never say aloud, he’d wondered if it had been a strategic move to keep him as Robin. He and Jon had worked together for some time, but then he did quit, for good. Being Robin was still a violent lifestyle he wanted to move away from. He and Jon had been able to retain their friendship which had eventually turned into something more, but Jon was still Superboy, and that’s where they had problems.

Throat slightly tight, Damian no longer had appetite for his coffee, but he downed a few more sips forcing himself to relax. He entertained the idea of reaching out when Wayne Tower came into view. There were more people in the streets now, and they were more lively and animated than they had been earlier that morning, but Damian felt none of it. Damian was greeted at the door by name to which Damian offered the doorman a curt nod before heading over to the elevators.

Damian went to his office and set his coffee down on the desk. He unfurled the scarf and set it down along with his coat on the small rack in the corner. He took his seat and logged into the computer. Bruce had made Tim CEO of Wayne Enterprise, and even though that still hurt— the part of Damian that had resented Tim for having everything that should have been his— Damian urged the emotions away. They occasionally resurfaced again from time to time, mainly when he was vulnerable, like now. He was quick to quell those ill feelings. Damian had a particular job, and one he actually liked. Bruce had put him in charge of taking the company into the next generation and special projects. It kept him busy.

For a second, Damian’s thoughts were filled with Jon again, and possibly attempting to bridge the gap between them, but he had things to do, and he pushed aside all distractions. He couldn’t go through it again.

The day went by quickly, the beginning was always routine: follow up on emails and memos, check on pending and on-going projects. Damian’s coffee was gone in a few minutes, and after he’d caught up with some work, he went grab something light to eat from the cafeteria but also something that would sustain him until lunch. The person at the register waved her hand away implying it was free not just discounted when he’d reached to pay. Damian held back a sigh but took his food to his office.

“I heard the funding went through.” Smith popped his head in after a few minutes. “Congrats.”

Damian didn’t look up from his computer. “Funding for what?” He had a lot of projects pending, all of them in various stages of development.

“You know, the one we had the meeting for yesterday.”

The Passion Sun project. It was set up as a nonprofit that would help low income families have access to more affordable, healthy food, and Wayne Enterprise would work directly with vendors from developing countries to avoid a middle distributor. It would help families throughout the countries, but it would also benefit those in other countries by creating jobs. The companies they would be getting their produce and products from would be those who were running on renewable energy.

Damian leaned back on his chair. “That’s great news. I don’t suppose you got a personalized call about it.”

His tone told Smith that he’d said something that had irked Damian. Smith tentatively stepped closer into the office. “No… It was announced in an email. Mr. Wa- Mr. Drake finished signing with a few investors.”

Damian’s eyes went to his computer and refreshed his email. There was the email from Tim. He clenched his jaw. Smith stood in silence noticing the tension building in the room.

Damian reached for his office phoned and dialed Tim’s extension. Smith looked like he wanted to say something, but he left Damian’s office after a brief hesitation, eyeing him a he shut Damian’s door. He got Tim’s secretary, Anna, which meant Tim wasn’t picking up or wasn’t in the office.

“This is Mr. D—.”

“Transfer me to him.”

“Mr. Wayne, he just left.”

“And I know you can transfer me to his cellphone.” He was being a prick, he knew, but he didn’t care.

Anna’s voice came soft before the sound of ringing again. “Of course…”

He answered on the second ring. “This is Tim.”

“Why didn’t you tell me TPSP got approved. You know I’ve been working on that for months and wanted to be involved every step of the way.”

Damian could hear the patient tone in his voice. “The only thing left was signing the investors.”

“Why wasn’t I informed you were signing today?” His own emotions were bubbling up his chest, and he couldn’t stop them.

“I picked them out of the list you gave me.”

Though his voice was calm, Damian heard the exhaustion creeping in and the patience waning. He heard the sound of an elevator door opening and knew he was still in the building somewhere. Damian hung up and left the office. He walked down the stairs three floors in case Tim came to his office to see him. He paced the landing and ran a hand through his hair letting out a sigh. The project was the only thing that mattered. It had the greenlight and however the publicity happened in order for it to succeed didn’t matter.

Damian ignored the voice in his head that told him Tim would take credit. He bit the inside of his cheek softly then let out another breath. It didn’t matter as long as the work got done and succeeded in helping people. He repeated it over and over in his head like a mantra.

He got his emotions under control in a matter of seconds, but he waited down there a few minutes just in case. He knew he might walk up to his office and find Tim waiting there, but he would be prepared. The sounds of his steps back up the stairs echoed off the concrete walls. His office was empty when he got there.

The rest of the hours in the office flew by. He didn’t get a call from Tim at his office (and he’d had no messages when he came back) or on his cellphone. He tried not to think of his father calling Tim congratulating him on the deal but not him. Finishing off his work, Damian left the office an hour and half earlier. He caught Smith glancing over at him. He was grateful when Smith didn’t try to talk to him.

It was still overcast outside with a slight chill. It had snowed again softly during lunch; he’d watched it drift down his glass office windows. Damian stopped by the coffee shop for a second cup before going back having realized he’d forgotten some files he’d meant to work on at home. There was a small line, but it moved quickly. The café was filled with soft chatter. He ran over what he would have to do once he got home after retrieving the files when his order was called. He walked up to the pick-up section and took his cup. He thanked the barista and turned to leave when he heard his name.

“Damian.”

He looked over and saw least expected person.


	2. Chapter 2

2

Colin Wilkes. Damian recognized him right away, even if the man before him was taller than him (of course he was), but Damian would know that messy red hair and blue eyes anywhere. The familiar freckles dusted on his cheeks and nose less visible. His thin, faded and worn red plaid jacket loose on him. There was a red scarf loose around his neck. He was smiling brightly at him. It had been year since Damian had seen him.

“Colin.” Damian couldn’t help a small smile, and when Colin opened his arms for a hug, he didn’t shy away from it; the embrace was warm. He was briefly aware at some faces turning to look over, but Damian quickly pushed that to the back of his mind.

“It’s been a long time.” Colin said pulling away, his face still beaming. His cheeks were rosy.

“It has. How have you been?” Damian pulled a chair out from an empty table and sat down. Colin sat down across from him.

“I’ve been good. How about you? You quit right after we found Zsasz, but then I saw you on the news with Superboy.”

Damian’s throat closed up for a second, and he squeezed his coffee cup slightly tighter. Colin eyed his reaction with confused curiosity before Damian was able to school it into neutrality. Colin understood not to ask about it again, even if Damian answered. “Yeah, we worked together for a while but… It was still something I wanted to give up, working with Superboy wasn’t going to change that.” Colin nodded in understanding. “Hey, listen, I’m sorry for not following up.”

Colin’s eyebrows rose. “It’s okay, Damian. I know there was a lot going on, and I should have reached out too. I wanted to, but I didn’t want to be a nuisance; I know that’s not an excuse either.”

“You could never be a nuisance, Colin.” Damian smiled softly at him.

Colin smiled back, “Well, now that we’re here, let’s stay in touch. Promise?”

“Promise. No excuses, from either of us.”

Colin chuckled and nodded. “Deal. Hey, do you still have pets like Jerry?”

“Yeah!” He had to bury the emotions that wanted to resurface of Jon holding him while he cried after Titus died of old age six months after they broke up. He hadn’t called him, but Jon must have heard him and found his way inside, because the next thing Damian knew, he was wrapped in Jon’s embrace. Since he had just turned twenty-one before that, Jason had bought him his first beer. It was disgusting, but that didn’t stop him from downing the whole thing. “I have a cat named Alfred and a bat-dragon named Goliath.”

Colin’s eyes widened. “That sounds incredible.”

A smile spread across Damian’s lips. “Then you can meet him.” Even if he’d taken Titus and Alfred the cat with him when he moved, Goliath wouldn’t fit anywhere unless he had his own secluded property. Besides, it gave him another reason to visit the mansion once or twice a week. “That is, if you’re not still…”

“Thanks. I’ve worked through most of that.” Colin’s smile widened, and it caused Damian’s heart to feel lighter seeing it and that Colin had managed to see to his phobias. He couldn’t imagine how hard that had to have been, especially if they had been induced by Scarecrow when he had experimented on him. Damian knew first-hand how potent the toxins could be.

“Do you still have Rory?” Damian asked after a sip of his coffee.

Again, Colin’s eyebrows rose, probably surprised that Damian had remembered his old teddy bear. He smiled softly. “No, actually. There’s only so much patching up and sewing can do after it kept ripping.” He shrugged. “When I was actually going to throw him away, finally, I gave him to a little girl at the orphanage. She’d seen me hesitating at the trash. Well, she was staring at Rory longingly, so…” Colin’s smile strengthened and warmed up. “I gave him a new home.”

“That’s great. Do you still live the other life?”

“No. I really never had a need to. I actually work at St. Aden’s now. Kind of like…a counselor of sorts. Not really, you need a degree for that, but you know… To support the youth still there and help out the nuns with anything they need, errands and fixing things. I had to change into Abuse once when someone had broken into the clinic to try and steal some drugs, but that’s it. It’s not much.”

“It’s everything, Colin.” Damian corrected him. “What you do there is important, and I’m sure it means a lot to all those kids and the sisters.”

“Thanks, Damian. Actually, we ended up getting some funding last year. When your company Neon Knight’s qualifications expanded after more budgeting.” Damian’s eyebrows rose. Originally Tim’s project, the expansion had been both of their ideas when they were reviewing current organizations the company was working with. They had managed to alter it together quiet civilly, and they’d both been happy with the results. Colin continued having not seen Damian’s minute micro expression. “With that money, we were able to buy more clothes, fix up a few things, and even get the kids more toys and crayons. We even had enough money left over to get a guitar. Its bit banged up now but… it still works.”

The way Colin was speaking, so ardently, so exuberantly, like warm brightness spilling through clouds, that made Damian’s heart feel weightless. He didn’t even notice he couldn’t stop smiling.

“What?” Colin asked, after a couple seconds, smiling.

“What do you mean?” Damian took another sip of his coffee.

Colin chuckled softly. “You were staring.”

Damian managed a scoff even if he couldn’t erase the small smile painted on his lips. “Keep dreaming.” He sat up straighter in his chair. “I would be more than happy to help you get a degree.”

Colin’s features clouded in confusion. “If you’re talking about paying for me to go to University or something… I’m really okay, Damian.” He finally took a sip of his tea. Damian lightly smelled green tea.

“It wasn’t meant as a charity, Colin. And I could put in a word, or point you to the best suited scholarships. You’re doing great things, and this would only help you.”

Colin studied him, Damian’s green eyes hard with determination and his jaw set, but a small smile still formed in his lips. “Thanks. It’s not necessary, but if it makes you feel any better, I’ll consider it.” Truth was, he knew Damian was right. He was doing good work, but he could do better.

“Acceptable.” Damian’s expression turned smug.

“Is that so?” Colin mirrored is expression for half a second before his cellphone pinged. Damian had opened his mouth to say something but kept quiet and watched Colin pull his cellphone out and send a quick message before putting it back in his coat pocket. “Sorry. They need me to stop by somewhere on my way back.”

Damian nodded. “I didn’t mean to keep you. I suppose we should both be off.”

“Yeah. Here, let me give you my number.” Damian watched Colin rummage in his coat and jean pockets until he pulled out a pen and crumpled up piece of paper which he recognized as a business card for the orphanage which made Damian smile. Colin smoothed it out slightly but hesitated just as he was about to write his information down. “Too formal.” He put it back in his pocket and instead grabbed the napkin that had been given to him with his tea. He wrote down his number and signed it ‘ Colin 😊 ‘. He handed it over. “Here.”

Damian took the napkin, “Thanks.”

“Your turn.” Colin handed over the pen. “I’m not letting you off the hook that easy.” There was a twinkle in his eyes and a playful smile.

Damian rolled his eyes as he took the pen, smiling nonetheless, and despite himself. But he couldn’t blame Colin for thinking he might not text him back. He wrote his name and number on the napkin he’d been provided then handed it and the pen back to Colin. He made no comment over how much more easier it would have been to put his number in Colin’s cellphone.

“It’s just as well, my cheeks hurt, and I should find out why.”

One of Colin’s eyebrows quirked upward, and he smirked. “From smiling?”

“What?”

“You’ve been smiling this whole time.” Colin said with a smile of his own and air of gratification. Even his posture was full of it, the way he leaned back straight in his chair, shoulders back, arms crossed over in front of his chest. Like a cat who got the milk.

The moment Damian’s smile dropped into a scowl; he knew Colin had been right. He had been smiling this whole time. He glared at him with an intensity of a thousand suns, but Colin only laughed. The shoulders that had tensed when his smile dropped, relaxed, and it was then that he realized the pressure and burdens he’d been feeling had been lifted when he’d seen Colin. Damian sighed, exasperated.

“You are tiresome.” The grumble he had intended came out instead forgiving, his gaze averted.

Smiling, Colin said, “Well, I can tire you some more when we meet again and finish catching up. How’s that?”

Damian looked back at him, and again the smile came easy. “I would welcome that.”

“Will you bring me flowers like last time?” Colin asked again with his impish grin.

This time, Damian felt his heart do a single somersault, and his eyes widened. He felt heat rising quickly up his neck and burning his ears and his cheeks. “They weren’t for you!”

Again, Colin laughed holding his sides. “I know… I know.”

Damian glared at the floor. He could still feel his ears hot.

Colin’s laugh died into a soft chuckle. “I can’t wait to see you again, then.” He pulled away from the table and stood up with his cup.

Damian nodded and stood up with him. “The feeling is mutual.”

The two walked back outside and were met with the biting cold. Damian’s lukewarm coffee would be cold in seconds. Colin adjusted his red scarf around his neck and turned to him.

“Alright. Later, Damian.”

“Later.”

His smile creeped up effortlessly as Colin waved, and Damian watched him cross the street. It was then that Damian felt eyes on him and was conscious of the others. His body tensed, and he turned his head slightly. There were a couple of people that were looking over, but then they went about their business. He had let his guard down. Inside, Damian hadn’t even noticed anyone else—as he was sure they’d been staring them too— much less his surroundings. Damian felt his muscles tense more. He turned and left, chiding himself for completely forgetting about the others even if they were civilians. Damian was half way home when he realized that he was supposed to be going back to Wayne Enterprise to pick up the files he’d forgotten. With a growl that caused a few others on the street to turn he went back the other way.

When he got inside the building, he found a trash can in the lobby to throw out his now empty. Despite there being plenty of room in the elevator he got in, only a few people dared share the ride up with him. Weak. Just as the elevator was about to make it’s stop, Damian’s cellphone pinged. A text from his father.

**Congratulations.**

Not even a call. A text. One word. He could bet money that Tim had gotten a call. Damian clenched his jaw, and he could feel the rage start to boil inside him. He could feel the tension in the elevator rise as the others took note. They shifted not so subtly, at least to him, father away from him that the confined space would allow. Then, another text. From Colin. 

**This is Colin!** It was followed by a winky emoji and a peace sign. Damian smiled.

A second text. **See? I’m texting, not callin’.**

In order to keep from laughing out loud at the stupid pun, the noise got trapped in his throat and came out as a mixture of a snort and chuckle. But he couldn’t stop smiling. The others in the elevator were more concerned. They exchanged looks with each other and shifted uncomfortably. When the elevator came to a stop, they shuffled out quickly but silently. Damian walked out staring at the follow up text: **Get it? ‘course you do, you’re you. Anyway. I’ll let you go for now! 😊**

He walked right past Tim who was headed towards the elevators. Tim slowed down then came to a full stop.

“Damian?”

Damian stopped and turned to look at him, his scowl back in place. “What?”

Tim stared at him; his brows furrowed together. Just as he was assessing him, Damian did the same. He had some files in one hand, his briefcase in the other. Tim’s white button up shirt missed the last two buttons, and he had no tie. No meeting, Tim was going home. The Wayne’s thought alike. The analysis took only a couple of seconds to anyone in the outside world, but Damian could see that Tim couldn’t read him. Good.

“Did something happen?”

“No.” The response was quick and sharp. Tim’s eyes narrowed. “And whatever you’re thinking—.”

“You don’t know what I’m thinking.” Tim interjected easily.

Damian glared. He bit back his comment about how _he_ was thinking about punching him in the face, but already he could see a few people looking over at them quizzically, and he didn’t want to be taken to HR again. Bruce had made an appearance, and Damian didn’t want to be on the receiving end of the look of disappointment. That look that cut deeper than anything. He also had half a mind to ask him if Bruce had called him regarding the approved project. The one he’d only gotten a single text about.

Instead, Damian let it go. He felt that burning anger squeezing his chest disappear, and he relaxed his muscles and straightened. His facial features followed.

“I wouldn’t _want_ to know what you’re thinking, Drake. And whatever is going on with me is not _your_ business. Or your concern.”

Tim didn’t say anything, but Damian could feel the wheels turning. “I’ll be out of the office for the next few days. Call me if you need anything.”

He turned and pushed the elevator button down, and Damian turned and went into his office. He sat down and looked through the files he needed. He logged into his computer and saved some files he would need at home onto his cloud server and into a thumb drive just in case. Just as Damian was gathering everything to go, Smith walked in.

“What was that about?”

“The door was closed for a reason.”

“The door was open.”

Damian looked up from the files he was gathering to the open door. He looked over to Smith. “It was nothing. Family affair.”

Smith’s features creased with mild worry, but he nodded anyway. “Got it, got it…”

“If that was all…” Damian urged as he went around his desk.

“Y—well, yes.” Just as Damian was going to move past him, Smith chimed in again. “I was wondering if you wanted to go out for drinks.”

That made Damian stop in his tracks. He turned to look at Smith with a quizzical look. Damian had to admit that he’d had courage to ask him, Bruce Wayne’s son, out on a date. If that’s what this was. It explained why he always insisted on seeing him, even for a minute, when Damian was here. Smith didn’t know him at all. Besides what he worked on, things that appeared in the news and tabloids, Smith didn’t know him. The idea that it was physical was preposterous.

Smith straightened, but Damian’s stare had him flustered, especially since he wasn’t saying anything. “It’s not just going to be me. There will be others from the office. Jan will be there. Lewis and Kagawa. A few others.”

“It’s a group function, but you mean it to break the ice with me to ask me out later. Yes?”

Smith’s eyes widened. “I… Yes…”

Again, his honesty and bluntness were surprising but admirable.

“I’m flattered, but I’ll pass. I don’t think you would actually like a relationship with me.”

Smith’s body seemed to relax, and he arched a brow. But instead of asking why, like Damian thought he would, instead he said, “Is it because of him? Your ex?”

Damian’s throat tightened, and his jaw clenched, but he was able to easily relax it. He said softly, “My love life is no one’s concern but my own.”

“Right. I’m sorry. It was out of place.”

Smith stepped aside wordlessly when Damian moved past him. Damian’s ears were drowned out with soft buzzing. Was it that obvious? He pushed the elevator button down then again a second time when it didn’t appear. He got in the elevator alone this time.

He really needed to punch something. Despite having left the life, he still kept up with his martial arts training. He went to the gym regularly, and he’d spar with is siblings once in a while. In other instances, just to stay fresh and on top of things, he’d hire a top martial artist to spar with him. At least that way he knew his movements wouldn’t be stale. That he would be still seeing new tactics. He needed that now.

But it was too late to find out of any of his siblings would be free, and he wasn’t about to let them miss patrol on his account. The gym it was. Even if there was one in his apartment building, Damian had a membership to one a few blocks away. He walked there three times a week, and only used the one in the building if the weather didn’t allow it or the gym was closed for any reason. Even in his decent neighborhood, muggings still happened. Attempted muggings in his case. That guy hadn’t been so lucky. Broken wrist, broken clavicle, broken nose, two broken ribs, and three broken teeth. Maybe he had been lucky. He had been easy to spot anyway. Most of those people came from less privileged neighborhoods thinking they could get a lucky score, but their clothes alone were enough to make them stand out.

Damian pulled out his cellphone and stared at Colin’s messages. He smiled again, and again, just like at the café, all worry washed away from him. Colin had been one of his greatest failures. Not just because Colin had figured out he was Robin, but because Damian had—not forgotten him—but abandoned him. He wouldn’t do that again.

With one hand, he texted back: **It’s Damian. 😊**

He hit send and stared at the emoji. Damian didn’t do emojis. But there it was, the smile staring right back at him.


	3. Chapter 3

3

By the time he got up to his apartment, Colin still hadn’t texted back. Damian set down his files on his kitchen table. He unwrapped his green scarf and set it down on the table along with his coat. He reached into its pocket and took out the thumb drive. He put it on the files. Damian looked over at Alfred who lay curled up on the couch, but he’d raised his head when Damian came home.

“Hey, Alfred.” He went over and softly rubbed his head.

Alfred got up and stretched lightly. He purred into Damian’s hand, but then hopped down from the couch and to the cat house in the corner. Damian walked over to his room to change into something for the gym. He put on light sweats and a thin sweater. Not that he needed it, he’d been trained to adapt to harsh weather, no matter if that was cold or hot. It wasn’t cold enough outside for it to bother him in the slightest, in fact, it often barely registered, and the exercise would warm him. He grabbed his ear pods from the nightstand and took his phone from his coat pocket. Still no text from Colin. He’d left with something to do; he must’ve been busy. Just because Damian could choose his own schedule didn’t mean everyone else could. Damian chided himself for being so impatient.

He turned on the features and put on the air pods into his ears. His work out playlist was set to Tchaikovsky and Chopin. He went back down. It was early-afternoon, and the air was slightly crisp. The sky was a cloudless but soft gray bland blanket over Gotham. Damian set his phone to the strap on his bicep and walked to the gym. There were only two other people here but spread out far apart. Considering the line of work some of them had, mostly 9-5, this was the time the gym was mostly free.

Damian walked up to a treadmill and adjusted the incline and speed. He started off with a run. There was something playing on the tv monitor of the treadmill, but he paid it no mind. It was on mute, and it seemed to be a daytime talk show. The tv up front of his side of the gym was playing an old show from the 90’s. He had no inclinations to switch the channel to the news. He knew what he would find, and so did everyone else here. That’s why they had this shit on. They wanted to forget and be kept apart in their safe little bubble. He wanted to forget because he saw flashes of blood. Saw dead bodies. Saw the good and the innocent, but it didn’t matter, because they were all corpses. Maybe if his father hadn’t insisted he have therapy, this wouldn’t have happened. He’d been fine before. Killed before. But that part of him was still there, buried deep inside him. Even if he followed his father’s code, Damian knew what he was capable of. The only way to avoid it, to get rid of it completely, to avoid the poisonous bite was to cut as to cut off the head of the snake completely.

“Sleeping Beauty Waltz” was playing when he heard a ding of a message on his phone. Damian pulled his phone out of his strap and checked. He almost tripped on his step and fell over. He quickly pressed the buttons to stop the treadmill. He checked the time. Not even twenty minutes. He got down from the machine and stared at the message. It was Jon.

**D, I got busy. But I’m back. Happy late birthday.**

Damian stared at the message. Jon didn’t need to specify what he was busy with or spare any details. Especially with how things were now, he knew it would only upset Damian. It was a Superman thing or a Legion thing. Damian’s throat was tight, and the air had become thin. His heart was hammering against his chest. Reaching for him. Reaching for Jon. He bit the inside of his lower lip and blinked back the thin layer of tears that were forming. Another message came in.

**Sorry. I didn’t think we would take so long, otherwise I would have messaged sooner… I hope you had a good day.**

His heart squeezed softly. He put the phone back and instead walked over to one of the punching bags. He wasn’t supposed to without gloves, but it wasn’t really a rule of the gym, just a high suggestion—not that anyone was here to see, the minimal staff always left him alone. If he didn’t know why his throat was tight and his heart was jumping and hurting at the same time, Damian would have thought he was sick with something, maybe poisoned. He started punching the bag as hard as he could. His pose was perfect without even thinking. Right foot in front of his left at a slight angle. Leading with his hip. Right jab. Left. Right left right right left left right. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t keeping track.

Had he had a good birthday? He had spent it with Alfred and Dick (a chocolate cake this time), and then he’d had that breakfast with his father. They were all people he loved and cared about, but why did he still feel alone. At least he wasn't threatened anymore by his mother's side of the family. The muscles on his arms were taut and strained. It took him a moment to realize that the strange noise was the sound of the chains holding the bag straining to keep it up for him.

“Hey, man. Leave some for the rest of us.” Someone who’d just walked in stared at him with mild awe.

Damian wasn’t sure how worn this bag was, but it didn’t matter either way. “I have no issue with replacing it.”

The man gave him a bemused expression but just said under his breath before leaving, “Don’t wanna be that guy who pissed you off.”

Damian landed a few more hard jabs before stopping. His body was warm from the exertion, and only now he could feel the hot beads of sweat that had formed on his forehead and temple. They began to drip and run down his face. He hadn’t brought a towel with him, and he wasn’t going to use the ones provided by the facilities no matter how much they were praised for their cleanliness. Instead Damian went to the bathroom and washed his face. He knew leaving the gym now wouldn’t be a good idea. His temperature was raised from the exercise, and it wouldn’t do well to go out in the blasting cold. He decided he’d stay here and cool down a few minutes. He looked down at the text messages. For some reason he imagined Jon at the other end staring at his cellphone waiting for Damian to reply, but he was sure Jon had more important things to do, and it had been another forty minutes since his last text. Damian sighed.

**It’s fine, Jon.**

He turned off his playlist which was ending Chopin’s Nocturne op.9 No.2. and just starting Chopin’s Ballade No.1 in G minor, Op. 23. After that would have been Tchaikovsky’s Waltz of the Flowers. Damian left the bathroom and waited another couple minutes before leaving and making his way home. His playlist wasn’t made in any real order, and he sometimes put it on shuffle. He wondered for a moment if he should add to it or make a new one. Maybe add some Debussy and Vivaldi.

It was softly snowing again. The ground was still covered mostly from before. The white had become stained and dirtied as people walked on the sidewalk and at some point the streets had been shoveled. The wonder of that first night was gone, but the sky insisted on. The soft white flurries danced in the sky before landing on the unforgiving grounds of Gotham.

The biting cold he’d been met with nipping at his exposed face was easily ignored, but when he got home his cheeks, ears, and the top of his nose were red. He peeled off his clothes and got into the shower, and as much as he wanted to stay under the hot water a bit more, letting it and the steam relax his tense muscles, he knew it wouldn’t be good to keep the water running. Quick showers were the most environmentally friendly ways to shower. When he got out, he wrapped the soft Egyptian cotton towel around his waist after quickly drying himself. His phone had a blinking light. The message there made his heart jump.

**Can I see you?**

Damian’s heart jumped, and so did his stomach, practically all his insides. He wanted to say no or that he was busy or to pretend he’d never seen it and just ignore it all together. Again, his heart was racing inside him. Towards Jon.

**I’m free now.**

Better get it over with. He walked over to his room and put on some slacks and fitted black, long sleeved, turtle neck.

**Can I come by at 4:30?**

Damian checked the time; it was almost two. He hadn’t realized he’d left work that early, but he hardly paid attention to the time spent in the office anymore so long as the work got done. He replied with a simple, **Yes.**

**Thank you!**

He stared at the message. It almost seemed like Jon was actually excited to see him, and that hurt all the more. Damian let out a sigh, and then felt like another one when he realized he still hadn’t eaten anything at all since his small lunch at work. The small discomfort in his stomach made itself known. He made himself something quick, a black pepper tofu with bok choy. He made sure that Alfred’s bowls still had food and water too before sitting down and eating. He picked up his worn and tattered copy of _The Alchemist_ by Coelho. Even if this wasn’t his favorite read, it was his most often read. There was something about the prose and the purposefulness of it that eased him. Damian set it facedown on the table only to wash his dishes and have three cups of water before settling on his couch and picking it up again. He was almost done with it when there came a knock at his door that made him tense. He stood up and got the door.

“Hey, D.” Jon smiled softly.

His unkempt black hair was messier than usual, and Damian figured he flew here even if he was in his civilian clothes. Risky. It was a bit wet, and he still had some white specks of snowflakes on his hair, and Damian noticed one on his eyelashes even behind his fake glasses. His heart hammered too quickly for him to stop it in time, but once it began, he was able to rein it in and steady it as much as he could. Jon was holding a small package. His birthday present. Damian stepped aside.

There was only a brief hesitation before Jon stepped in. He took a quick look around, but there was nothing new for him to take in.

“I just wanted to drop this off…and see how you were doing.”

“I’m doing as well as you can expect.” Damian said shutting the door.

Jon stared at him. It was a non-answer, but he said nothing about it. Damian was grateful. Was he that easy to read? His muscles were wound up tight, and he tried to make them relax. The soft smile returned to Jon’s lips, and he handed over the present. 

“Happy birthday, D.”

“Thank you, but you didn’t have to get me anything.” He reached over for the package and was careful not to let their hands touch, his muscles tensing more at the idea.

Now that he was here, the idea was floating around again in his head that he should try and reconnect, but Damian knew what that would lead to. He was certain he could school his emotions away to still rekindle their friendship, but it didn’t mean Jon wouldn’t cancel plans to go save the day or go on missions and be gone for weeks at a time when the Legion called for him, much like he had when they had been dates. And now that Jon was going to University as well, and Damian had work, he didn’t know if it was worth it to see him every few weeks or every few months. But the truth was, he knew the answer. It was. It was worth it to see Jon even in as brief a time as that. What he couldn’t stand was the guilt. The guilt of walking away. How many more people could he have saved if he hadn’t decided to leave? If his father or one of the others in the family were in a life endangering situation, would he do nothing? Damian had always been sure of his decisions and actions, so then why did he have to feel guilty about this? Why did he have to feel guilty about everything that had to do with leaving the life? For wanting to be happy outside of it all.

“I know I didn’t, but I wanted to… Well?” Jon smiled at him. This one looked more like the smiles he remembered. “Aren’t you going to open it?”

“Don’t be so pushy, Kent.”

The wrapping paper was a navy blue, and Damian found it very fitting. It made soft crinkling noises as he worked through the tape. He could already tell from the way the package was soft that it was an article of clothing or a blanket.

“Yes, well, I want to see if you like it. I made it.”

Damian gave him a sideways glance, and a brief image of Jon knitting or crocheting with Ma Kent filled his thoughts. He turned back to the present and finished unwrapping it. It was a green sweater with a few small red stripes. Damian finished pulling it out of the wrapping when he noticed the bottom right corner of the sweater. There were four little animal shaped faces: a red one shaped like Goliath, a white and brown one for Batcow, a black one for Titus, and a black and white one for Alfred. He could feel Jon’s expectant eyes on him, and Damian couldn’t help the way his heart was hammering again, but at least he'd managed to keep his throat from tightening.

He was tracing over Titus’s snout with a thumb. “You made this?”

“I did.”

Damian could only wonder how long it had taken him and even how many hours of practice it had taken him doing other things to get this good. He could still feel Jon’s eyes watching him, waiting for his reaction, any reaction.

“I love it.”

Even though Damian was still stroking Titus’s image, he could see Jon beam from the corner of his eye. Even when Damian wasn’t looking directly at him, Jon always managed to blind him in his radiance. Already he could smell Jon on it, and all Damian wanted to do was press it to his nose and take in his scent, and he imagined wearing it would be like being in Jon’s embrace again, but that would run the risk of his scent wearing out.

“Really? I’m glad, D.” Alfred was rubbing up against Jon’s legs.

Damian looked over at him. His heart was racing, but more so just staring at him. The bit of redness that had formed on Jon’s cheeks and nose from the cold was gone, but Jon’s cheeks were still rosy. Jon’s soft lips matching their pink color, and Damian got flashes of when they were redder and puffy from making out against his own. His heart flip flopped some more. Curses. Jon was doing a good job at pretending he didn’t hear any of it.

“Thank you for the gift.” He said again and folded the sweater into his arm.

“Yeah, no problem, D…” Jon’s smile was gentle, but it was clear to both of them how quickly awkward things were getting.

“Do you want a glass of water?” Damian started walking to the kitchen.

“Damian?”

He stopped in his tracks, his whole body tensing. Damian quickly forced his body to loosen and relax. He turned around. “Yes?”

Jon stared at him, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Damian could see a thousand things going through his mind and debating on what to settle on.

“Are you really okay?”

Damian had half expected him to tell him that Jon missed him, but this made his heart squeeze all the same. “Yes. I’ve been well, as you can see. I keep myself busy with work. I’m working on projects I really care about.”

Jon frowned lightly, his brows knitting together behind his wavy black bangs. His blue eyes piercing harder. “That’s not what I meant.” There was a soft edge to his tone that Damian ignored.

“I’m perfectly well, Jonathan.”

He saw the way Jon’s eyebrows furrowed more and the way his frown deepened for a second. “Okay...”

“And you? I imagine you’ve been well, too.”

“Yeah…”

Damian took note of his soft tone of voice where there were things still left unsaid. “Good.” There was a brief pause, almost unnoticeable. “If that was all, then you should go. I do have things to do.”

The silence that followed was deafening, and even if it only lasted a few seconds, they were eternity to two yearning hearts. Something like hurt flashed in Jon’s expression, but it quickly fluttered away like a shadow on his face.

“I guess I’ll leave you be.” Jon said finally.

Damian nodded. He didn’t want him to go. He wanted a lot of things, but not that. He wanted to run his hands through his dark hair and grip him close, pull him in and kiss him, devour him. He wanted to feel his lips against his own, to feel his lips all over his body.

“I’m really am happy you like the gift, D.” Jon smiled at him softly in that way only he could that made Damian yearn for him more.

Damian watched Jon shut the door softly behind him. Not a second later he felt two hot tears spill down from his eyes wetting his cheeks. He clenched his jaw and wiped them away angrily. Crying was unbecoming, and he could only imagine what his mom’s side of the family would say and think. Throat tight, Damian walked to his room and folded the sweater. He set it down gently on the side of the bed that Jon had always occupied when he’d spent nights here. It was hard to swallow, but Damian forced himself not to linger. He’d originally thought of folding up the paper the gift had been wrapped in and keeping it, but he crumpled it up and threw it away.

As he sat at his couch, he thought of calling one of his brothers, but he compromised to being alone over either of their companies. It was preferable over how he knew they would react; Dick would overreact and smother him, Jason would dote on him like a mother, and Tim would be understanding but detached and clinical. If they were close by, they might even come over, and he didn’t want that. And if they felt worried enough, they might even call his father, and he didn’t want that either.

Alfred hopped up onto the couch and curled up onto his lap. His old, tired eyes eyed him.

Damian rubbed behind his ears. Even his black fur was graying. “I’m okay, Alfred.”

His eyes didn’t give away. Even the cat didn’t believe him, but maybe it wasn’t about them. Maybe Damian just wanted to believe it. Maybe he just wanted it to be true.

So desperately he wanted it to be true.

As he softly rubbed Alfred’s ear, Damian was able to control his emotions into neutrality. Others would call it numbing himself, but he called it meditation and training. He forced himself not to dwell, because if he did, then he would be crying again. Especially with Jon’s scent lingering in his apartment, in his hands from the sweater, in his mind with longing. Damian felt a soft contraction in his heart but otherwise he was okay.

When Alfred hopped off and walked over lazily to eat the bit of food left in his bow, Damian picked up his book and when he was finished with it, he put it back in his shelf. He picked another one off the shelf. He was in the mood for Victor Vale’s revenge. He was only a few pages in when he heard his cell ping. He pulled it out of his pocket and checked the message. He was happy to see it wasn’t Jon. He was happy it wasn’t his family or anyone else. In fact, he was just happy it was Colin.

 **I would hope so.** Damian snorted at the insinuation that he would give Colin a fake number. Another text came in. **Sorry, I got busy. Dinner tonight? :) 7?**

Damian texted back with a smile.

**What did you have in mind?**


	4. Chapter 4

4

The night wasn’t as cold as the few ones before and not as cold as the day had been earlier. The strangely cold weather for August would probably return in October or November. It wasn’t odd to have cold bursts, but Damian couldn’t help but wonder if Freeze was involved. Even the mundane things like the weather had his thoughts pulling back into the life.

Damian stopped in front of the restaurant: Tehran’s Friends. He’d never been to this restaurant even if he’d meant to. It was a vegan restaurant. It wasn’t high-end, but it was fancy enough that he’d been surprised Colin had picked it. The dress code was still semiformal, so Damian hadn’t needed to change. When he came inside, he noted the strong spicy scents. He smiled lightly remembering back home. There were lights coming down from the ceiling casting a soft orange and yellow rustic glow on everything.

The hostess smiled at him brightly. “Hi. Table for one?”

She was too chipper for a Gothamite, and he noted her pale skin and blonde hair in a bun. The guests were of all races, but he noted who the owners decided be the face despite it being an Iranian and Pakistani owned restaurant.

“I’m actually--.”

“Damian!!!”

He looked over at the sound of his name. Colin was waving at him, a broad smile on his face, and even if he hadn’t been waving, Damian would have soon spotted him from what he wore earlier. There was also the fact that his red hair stood out. Damian gave the hostess a curt nod before walking over to him. Their table was slightly secluded from the others.

“Hey!” Colin sat down at his chair.

Damian smiled lightly, amused. “Hello, again.”

“What? Two times in the same day too much?”

Damian pulled the menu up after sitting across him. He looked over the items and noticed most of them were true middle eastern, but there were a few that weren’t. He scanned it again to see what he wanted. “Assuming you went back to the questionable parts of Gotham for your errands for St. Aden’s then came right back here to have dinner with me then…” He trailed off then smirked at him over the menu.

“Oh ho, is that how it is?” Coin’s eyes wide with mild bemusement.

“That’s how it is.” Damian smiled more at him daringly.

Colin let out a soft chuckle and shook his head. He turned to look at the menu. “I wanted us to continue catching up. Is that so bad?”

“No. Not bad at all.”

Colin smiled up at him from his menu, and Damian smiled back. A waitress came over and asked if they were ready to order or if she could start them off with some drinks. Damian considered wine, but he ordered an ice green tea. Colin ordered a black ice tea.

“I’m ready to order if you are.” Colin looked over at him.

Damian nodded and turned to the waitress. “I’ll have the zaatar roasted cauliflower steak with green tahini sauce.”

“Chickpea shawarma sandwich for me please.” Colin smiled at her and shut the menu.

She finished jotting down their orders and took the menus. “I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

“You remembered I was vegetarian?” Damian asked when she’d gone.

Colin nodded. “I did, and I thought I remembered a news piece covering it a year ago too.”

“It’s very thoughtful of you.”

“It’s nothing, Damian. You know, I thought you were dead for some time. After seeing you on the news with Superboy you disappeared for a while. Then I started hearing your name regarding Wayn—.”

“Colin. Can I tell you something?”

He nodded. “What is it?”

Damian’s stomach lurched. “He and I used to date.”

“Oh.” The use of past tense and Damian’s look told Colin all he needed to know. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out.” He reached over and squeezed his hand. “I’m here if you ever want to talk.”

Damian smiled weakly. He knew he could count on Colin to understand. “I’ll keep it mind. Why don’t we just focus on catching up? Talk about us.”

Colin smiled, and it made Damian’s heart flutter with lightness. “Sounds like a plan.”

The waitress came over, and Damian watched as Colin’s hand finally pulled away from his. She set their drinks down and informed them it would be a few more minutes for their order before leaving. Damian wondered for a second if she’d recognized him—though who wouldn’t—and had prioritized their order.

“So, tell me what you do at the company.” Colin smiled at him.

His smile was easy and encouraging. It was no wonder Damian so easily leaned into smiling too. He told him the kinds of projects he was focused on, all of them helping restore neighborhoods all over the world; bringing clean food and water and renewable energy. He focused on finding ways to reduce carbon emissions and how to help endangered species.

The waitress came over and set down their plates. “Enjoy.” She smiled at them and sent to attend her other tables.

Colin turned to him after thanking the waitress, his smile as easy and genuine as ever. “Wow. All that sounds incredible, Damian.”

Damian smiled softly. “It’s not nearly enough, but it’s a start.”

“Are you kidding? Hey, if you’re going to call me out for what I do, then I’m calling you out.” Damian arched a brow, but Colin continued. “What you’re doing is changing the world, so don’t sell yourself short. Ever.”

There was a soft fluttering in his chest. Sprouting the wings of new life.

“I’ll take your word for it.” Damian said with a smile, but his tone was complimentary with a slight hint at smugness, a glint in his emerald eyes.

He was making a difference, and sometimes he would forget. The weight of both his family names constantly a burden and shadows looming over him. 

“That’s more like it.” Colin laughed softly.

They ate and continued to exchange stories. Damian told him of the hassles he had to go through, the red tapes of cooperate and international affairs. He told Colin of trips he’d taken for work and how some of his projects were doing now. Colin told him stories of shenanigans that had happened in the orphanage when he was still a ward and now that he was working there, telling him of the kinds of trouble the kids would be getting into. A couple of the stories had made Damian laugh. Actually laugh.

He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d laughed.

At some point during their conversation, Colin had handed over one of his wraps wordlessly while they were engrossed in their stories. Damian had taken it and offered his plate and fork over to Colin for a bite. The silent, secret language for them was still there after all these years later.

“Dessert?” Colin asked with a small smile once they were done eating.

“Hm.” Damian considered.

“We can share.” Colin added as means of incentive. He had a brow raised encouragingly.

Damian chuckled. “As much as I would like that, how about next time?”

“Oh? There’s a promise of a next time?” Colin’s voice was teasing.

Damian rolled his eyes, but he smiled a second later. “That is exactly what I said, unless you’re going deaf.”

This time Colin was the one who laughed. “Nope, not yet anyway. I’m glad that—.”

The waitress came over and grabbed their empty plates. “Your bill?”

“Together.” Damian said at the same time Colin spoke.

“Separate.”

They stared at each other and the waitress mumbled that she would be back in a minute, and she retreated with the plates.

“I can manage my own bill, Damian.” Colin smiled softly. Damian didn’t doubt it, but the tea alone was almost ten dollars, and he’d seen the average price on the dishes. “Besides, if anyone was paying for both of us, it would be me since I invited you.”

Part of Damian wanted to insist, knowing Colin’s money could be better spent elsewhere, but he said nothing. “Separate it is.”

The waitress came back and looked at them from one to the other expectantly.

“Separate bills.” Damian said.

She reached into her apron and pulled out two black pocket books and handed it to them. There was a third resting in her other apron pocket, and Damian noted that that one was probably the bill put together in case they’d decided to pay together. They thanked her, and she directed them to the front to pay when they were ready. She moved on to her only other table.

Colin stood and Damian followed him after. He waited for him to pay first then wrote in the waitress’ tip before sliding in his card. The person at the register must have seen the amount, because her eyes widened and she stared at him with slight awe before composing herself. She smiled at them.

“Have a wonderful evening.”

He nodded at her and walked out with Colin.

“That was good.”

Damian followed him. The snow was soft under their feet. “It was. I’d never been there before.”

Colin stuffed his hands in his pockets. Their shoulders brushed softly. They were quiet for a few minutes, their breaths softly forming but quickly disappearing in front of them. It was then that Damian noticed he was leading them to his apartment, Colin following.

“Will you be okay walking home?”

It wasn’t that late, but anything after sundown in Gotham was worthy of caution.

Colin smiled, “I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re not sure. I could call you a car.”

“You don’t have to keep doing that, Damian.”

He knew what Colin meant. “Fine, but might I remind you, you’re the one who picked that restaurant. I don’t mind having a meal with you at a local diner or off a street vendor. As long as I can eat it.”

Colin chuckled softly. His shoulders shaking from the motion. “Fair enough.”

“Why business did you have here anyway?” Damian eyed him curiously.

“I came to personally deliver some papers to a family that was interested in adopting someone from St. Aden’s.” Colin turned to him and smiled. “Finding a family for someone at the orphanage always feels amazing, but finding you was the best thing to happen to me today.”

Damian felt his heart do a flip flop. His cheeks warmed. His jaw clenched a bit for a second, but then he relaxed and smiled softly at him.

“I’m really happy, too, Colin.”

“The best thing to happen to you today?” Colin was teasing him, his tone playful, but Damian thought about it.

He thought about Jon, but then he stopped walking and smiled at him. “The best thing to happen to me today.”

Colin’s smile widened brighter. It made Damian’s widen softly in turn. It wasn’t a lie, and it was a pleasant surprise to him.

Damian turned to look at the building, “Well, I suppose you know where I live now.”

Colin turned to look at the building then smiled back at him. “And you know where I—. Well, I don’t live there anymore. You know where I work!”

Damian chuckled softly. He refrained from rolling his eyes. “I do.”

“Thanks for having dinner with me.” Colin rocked back and forth a bit on his feet, and Damian wondered if it was from the cold.

“Thank you for inviting me. Next time you’re free, I can introduce you to Goliath, if you like.”

Colin’s eyes widened, the blue sparkling like sapphires. “I would _love_ that.”

Damian smiled softly up at him. “Goodnight, Colin.” He hesitated, but he leaned in and hugged him.

Colin stopped rocking, and he removed his hands from his pockets and hugged him close. “Goodnight, Damian.”

They stood there hugging for a few minutes. Colin knew it was something Damian needed, and so he waited. Only when Damian let go did he let go too. He smiled at him again and held up a fist. Damian stared at it, and his heart let out a single, soft jump. He smiled and gave him a fist bump.

“I’ll see you soon.” Colin started walking away and waved, looking back at him.

Damian nodded, “It’s a promise.”

He waited until Colin had faded down the street before grabbing the glass doors and walking up to the elevators and taking them to his floor. He got into his apartment and stood in the dark thinking. The lighthearted feeling was still there, and it felt good. He felt good. Filled with renewed energy and purpose, Damian walked to his kitchen and turn on the lights. He grabbed his laptop and brought some of his files over to get some work done. Alfred squinted at him from where he was curled up in the corner on his cat bed. He yawned then resumed his sleep.

Damian stayed up until the early morning before falling asleep on the kitchen table.


End file.
